


Twixt and Tween

by orphan_account



Series: October Fic-A-Thon [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Labyrinth Fusion, Goblin King Lance, Keith is all sorts of done, Language, M/M, Multi, Shiro wears a dress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-19 12:29:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8208065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Keith has made a small teeny mistake...well, okay he made a big mistake (Trying to crawl into Shiro's pants while drunk) which lead to more mistakes (ignoring Shiro) which finally led him to this comparatively small mistake: Wishing that the Goblin King would come and take Shiro away. But he's sorry and would like to take it back and have Shiro returned promptly. Too bad the Goblin King thinks Shiro is pretty awesome. And Shiro thinks maybe Keith doesn't really want him to come back. And the only way to win Shiro and prove himself is to make it to the King's castle at the end of a giant maze...while enduring the King's near constant attempts at flirting.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This. Ended. UP. SO. LONG! I think I'm aiming for up in six chunks, posted every 4 days? ...*tries to math and make sure that's all up before the 31st*

Keith pushed open the door of the house cautiously, eyes darting around the entranceway. When he didn’t see anyone he pushed it open further and stepped inside, letting it shut gently behind him. He was soaking wet, had gotten caught in a storm on the way home from work, and was damn near two hours late but hopefully they’d just gone without him. He’d been dreading this anniversary dinner for months, since his foster parents had informed him of it, and while he hadn’t purposefully been late he also hadn’t put up much of a fight when his professor asked him to stay after to go over his latest short story. 

“There you are!” He jumped, then turned to face his foster mother, an unwanted surge of guilt rising up in his chest. Fuck, she was still home and...still very dressed up; elegant black dress, pearls, graying black hair twisted and pinned up, gray eyes sharp. “You were supposed to be home over an hour ago.”

He sighed, pushing his dripping hair back from his face. “I’m sorry. Just...I’ll go change and then we can go.” 

She pursed her lips, gray eyes flickering to a point behind him. He turned, somehow already knowing what he’d see, to find Shiro stepping out of the living room. He looked...nice; slacks, a button down with the sleeves undone and pushed up to his elbows, vest, and a tie. Keith, in his sodden jeans and sweatshirt, probably looked that much worse in comparison. 

There was a moment of silence; Keith looked away, tugging the sleeves of his hoodie down over his hands, Shiro sighed softly, and Mrs. Shirogane shifted on the spot. It wasn’t until Mr. Shirogane, in one of his nicer suits and smiling jovially, came thundering down the stairs that anyone moved. 

“Shiro has kindly decided to send us somewhere else tonight, and book us a lovely room so we won’t have to drive back so late, to make up for the lost reservations.” Mrs. Shirogane said finally, smoothing down the front of her dress. “We’ll be back tomorrow afternoon.”

“Oh.” Keith said faintly. He refused to give in to the urge to look over at Shiro, to even acknowledge that he was here, cleaning up Keith’s mess. “Okay.” 

She clucked then, expression softening into something that made him feel even worse, she carefully leaned in and brushed a kiss to his cheek. “Get warm and dry Keith, then clean up this water please.” 

He nodded, wanting to shrink away when she put a warm hand to his cheek. He was being a brat, again, and as always they were tolerating it. And not even in the manipulative make him feel like shit way that he’d experienced from time to time, but like they genuinely didn’t want to be upset with him and were willing to let things slide. 

They left, Mr. Shirogane clapping him on the shoulder as he walked past, and then it was just him and Shiro. Fucking Shiro who was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, watching him with steely gray eyes. Keith sniffed then started shuffling for the stairs. 

Maybe Shiro would just leave him alone. 

“Are you okay?” 

Or not. 

Keith shot him a look, hoped it was dark and annoyed and not disgusting smitten, and frowned. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

Shiro made a face like he thought Keith was being stupid. “Because we we had reservations for mom and dad’s-” Keith’s stomach flipped. “Anniversary dinner for over an hour ago and you’re just getting home? Without calling to say you’d be late or ask for a ride. That’s not like you.” 

He wanted to snap that they hadn’t spoken in nearly six months and that things could change in half a year. But it was his fault they weren’t talking and bringing that up would just make Shiro’s stupid point and god, he didn’t want to do this. He wanted to take a hot shower and  be done with this entire day. 

And to be done with Shiro. He’d been dreading this, Shiro coming home for a week of leave to celebrate his parent’s wedding anniversary, since Shiro’s last leave (which Keith had spent on a very stimulating one person road trip. Which was to say he’d driven for a day then crashed in a motel for the next two weeks, eating take out and feeling sorry for himself.) and this was why. Shiro wanted to talk, to fix things, to make it all better so he could put Keith back in the ‘good little brother who hadn’t failed out of college and come home, tail between his legs, to start working at a diner’ box. 

“Time got away from me.” He said finally. He was almost to the stairs, ready to make a break for it, but Shiro was nothing if not fast. Not as fast as Keith was, but then Keith has more experience running away from shit, but fast enough to be in front of him before he can try to hurry away, wearing his ‘disappointed in you’ face. 

“Is that why you haven’t called me back once in six months? Because time got away from you?” Shiro asked, eyes flickering with some emotion Keith couldn’t, or maybe didn’t, want to put a name too. “And don’t think I don’t know you were late tonight because you didn’t want to see me.” 

“You just know everything don’t you?” Keith snapped. Shiro blinked slowly, deliberately, stared at him like he could see through him. 

“Is this about New Years?” 

And that. That was what Keith didn’t want to talk about, ever. He didn’t even want to think about it, have to replay it in his own head, let alone discuss it outloud with Shiro. Not now, not ever. 

“Can you just...back off!?” Keith asked, trying to push past Shiro and, hopefully, retreat to his room for the rest of the night. He couldn't think of anything he wanted to deal with less than his foster brother and the figurative elephant in the room at the moment.

Or ever again if he could manage it but fucking Shiro wouldn't leave him the hell alone and let him wallow in his own misery because he was a good person and that wasn’t what good people did. And fine, this whole...thing was Keith's own fault. He was the one who'd had a little too much to drink on New Years, the one who'd dragged Shiro away from his date, the one who'd breathlessly kissed the other, the one who'd screwed everything up. 

Shiro had been perfect about it, of course, because he was almost fucking perfect about things. He’d kindly pushed him away, taken him to bed, gotten water into him, and then tucked him in like Keith was a child. Like Keith was his brother.

Which was no doubt how Shiro saw him.

It wasn’t like they had grown up together as siblings. The Shiroganes had taken him in when he was 15, after a decade of bouncing around in the system after his mother’s death. His first thought upon meeting Shiro, tall, broad, friendly, had been ‘God, he’s hot’. Brotherly feelings had never been part of anything for Keith but, on the flip side, he didn’t think Shiro had ever seen him as anything but. And Keith hadn’t been about to say anything; he’d finally ended up with semi-decent people (more than semi-decent. Shiro’s parents were fantastic people who’d treated him better than he probably deserved considering he was harboring filthy desires towards their golden boy of a son) and he wasn’t about to fuck that up. 

He and Shiro were friends. Good friends even, or at least they had been. Shiro was 3 years older, had been headed for the military soon, but he’d taken the time out to help Keith settle in, to help him meet people in the neighborhood and at school, quietly encouraged him in whatever it was he was doing, called often, emailed more...It had been a good thing. One of the few good things Keith had ever had in his life. 

But four year of that great thing and he’d managed to fuck it up. If it had just been that kiss maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad but no, when Shiro had been putting him to bed, drawing those blankets up over him, he’d reached out and pulled the other into his bed. Drew him down, rolled them over so he was on top, and covered Shiro in gross alcohol tinged kisses. And shoved his hands right down Shiro’s pants and underwear, stuck his tongue into his mouth when Shiro’s lips parted in surprise, and rocked against his leg.  

Which was about the point Shiro’s date, the guy he’d been dating for the past two years, had poked his head into Keith’s room. 

They were lucky in that Shiro’s boyfriend hadn’t said anything to anyone else. Just quietly ended the relationship, headed out that very night, and when Keith had tried to call and apologize, to explain that Shiro hadn’t done anything, he’d never answered. 

So he’d ruined his friendship with Shiro and Shiro’s relationship all in one fell swoop. He felt bad, really bad. But he also remembered the way Shiro’s lips had parted around a surprised gasp, Shiro’s hands on his shoulders as he got ready to push him away, and the way he’d felt, warm and thick in his hand for those few moments before his door had creaked open, and he didn’t...regret it as much as he should. 

And that was why he couldn’t bare to speak or see Shiro. That was why he was avoiding him, and a lot of other things and people. 

“Keith.” Shiro sounded tired and, when Keith managed to wedge past him, he caught him by the arm, held him firm. “What happened...it’s fine. We can just forget about it. You were drunk, I was...kind of drunk, stuff got out of hand so let’s just forget about it.” 

Keith felt his face growing hot. He jerked his arm away and stomped up the stairs, ignoring Shiro calling his name and following him at a more subdued pace. He ducked right into his bedroom, just managed to slam and lock the door before Shiro caught up. There was a thump, like the other was slumped against the door, and a long sigh. Keith flicked on his lamp then started pulling off his clothes, letting them fall to the floor with wet squishes. 

He was cold, gooseflesh rising up as soon as his skin hit the air, and started shivering right away. He could heard Shiro breathing outside of his room but did his best to ignore it, grabbing his towel from the end off his bed and starting to dry off roughly. 

“I don’t know what you want Keith.” 

“I want you to leave me alone.” 

“Sorry,” There was an edge of sarcasm to Shiro’s voice now. “I don’t know what you want that actually makes sense since we live in the same house-”

“I’m moving out next month.” Keith said. He’d been looking at places, found one close to work and it wasn’t anything special but it wasn’t here. It wasn’t full of reminders of Shiro and his great big fuck up.

Shiro didn’t miss a beat and continued on as if he hadn’t heard Keith at all. “And share parents and-”

“They aren’t my parents!” Keith snapped. “You aren’t my brother!” 

Shiro inhaled sharply and Keith immediately felt like shit. He was too old to be acting like this, saying shit like that, trying to hurt Shiro’s feelings because Shiro was a reasonable individual who understood that lusting after your foster brother was weird and gross. 

“Just go away.” He muttered, not sure if it was loud enough for Shiro to hear and not caring. 

“I’m not going to do that.” Shiro thumped against his door again, softer this time. “You’re my-” Brother? “Best friend.” 

Thunder rumbled outside and the sky lit up, bright as day. There was a loud yowl, one of the neighborhood cats no doubt, and the windows rattled. Keith glanced in that direction, eyes drifting over his bookcase. Then jumping back as he realized one of his books was missing. He knew which one even though he wasn’t close enough to see it; an old worn copy of The Labyrinth, one of a handful of books he’d been able to keep after his mother had died. 

Had someone been in his room? No, not someone, Shiro. It had to have been Shiro, no one else would be interested in his books (certainly not some old fantasy book barely anyone had ever heard of) except Shiro, who was a big sci-fi and fantasy dork. 

Shiro loved that book, probably more than Keith did. It wasn’t strange for him to borrow it, not even strange for him to do it without asking, and yet Keith found himself angry. It boiled in his stomach, filled his chest, made him hot under his skin. 

Why couldn’t Shiro just stay out of his life? 

Couldn’t he see he was just making things worse? 

What did Keith have to do to make him leave him alone?

“Please talk to me Keith.” 

“I wish,” He blurted, glaring at the empty spot on his bookcase, silly words from a silly story coming back to him. “The goblins would come and take you away.”

Lightning flashed again and Keith’s room was plunged into darkness. Everything was silent, no clicking of the clock on the wall, no hum from his computer, nothing. Not even, he realized as he squinted through the dark, the sound of Shiro breathing. 

“Shiro?” He called out tentatively. Had Shiro finally gotten the clue? ...in the same moment the lights went out? Had he heard what Keith had said, decided he was just too ridiculous and stupid to deal with, and walked off? 

...no, that wasn’t Shiro. If anything he should have been trying harder to get Keith to come out so they could be together until the lights came on. Mr. Responsible Shirogane would want to keep his eyes on Keith, just to be on the safe side. 

He dropped his towel and, after pulling on a pair of sweatpants because he was not going to risk opening the door and walking into Shiro with nothing on (as if things weren’t mortifying enough), he opened his door. The hallway was dark as well, of course, and very empty. The only sound was his own breathing and the floorboards creaking as he stepped out of his room. 

Shiro’s room was at the end of the hallway on the other side of the stairs. There was a bathroom and a guest room between them, with Mr. and Mrs. Shirogane’s room being on the first floor. All the doors were shut, just as they’d been when he came upstairs. Except Shiro’s, which was wide open. 

From where he was standing he could see the curtains of one of Shiro’s windows blowing in the wind. He crept closer, a chill dancing up his spine, and strained to hear anything. There was the rustling of the curtains and, as he got closer, the sound of water pattering against wood. 

Why was Shiro’s window open while it was raining outside? This...this didn’t feel right. This was wrong, all wrong, and he could feel it all the way down to his bones. 

Something streaked past Shiro’s door, a blur of red low to the ground, and a plaintive yowl broke the silence. He jumped then swore, shaking his head. Was that a cat? Had Shiro brought a cat home? ...did Shiro even like cats?

“Shiro?” He called again. He wanted to stop, to turn around and just...wait for Shiro to pop back up. This was probably some sort of weird prank, revenge for telling Shiro to go away and- but that wasn’t like Shiro either. The guy had a wicked sense of humor, and did like pranks, but doing something to upset Keith on purpose? 

Never. 

He stepped into Shiro’s room then stopped, lips curling downward. There was someone in Shiro’s bed. His first instinct was that, of course, it was Shiro but it was too thin, didn’t take enough space and...god, why the hell did he know that? He needed to move out of this place and...start dating. Or something. 

Still. That was not Shiro. Had he brought someone home with him? He hadn’t mentioned seeing anyone but then again it wasn’t like they talked or anything and

“Are you coming over here or not?” The figure under Shiro’s sheets called; male voice, playful and almost sweet. They shifted, rolled over, and Keith almost took a step back. Great. First he’d run off Shiro’s last boyfriend and now he was creeping around in the dark like a weirdo and watching this new one sleep. 

Fantastic. 

“Um. Sorry. I didn’t mean to- I was looking for Shiro.” 

The man on the bed laughed as he stood up. “I know who you’re looking for.” 

Keith stared. The man was about Keith’s height with brown skin, messy brown hair, perfectly shaped eyebrows, sweeps of smokey silver shadow over his eyes, lips painted a deep purple, and the brightest, bluest eyes Keith had ever seen. He was cute and Keith could totally understand why he’d be in Shiro’s bed just going by that. What was giving him some pause however was how he guy was dressed. Skintight leggings, that might as well have been painted on because Keith had no idea how he could have gotten into them otherwise, that framed a...not inconsiderable bulge. A long sleeved puffy….pirate looking shirt, with a deep V in the front that showed off more brown skin, and a coat long enough for it’s uneven hem to brush the ground at it’s longest point, dark purple with wide bell sleeves and a collar that was tall enough to frame his face and was...made of peacock feathers. 

It was an over the top sort of tacky mess. Keith had seen less absurd things during his short and ill fated year as a theater kid in high school. 

“Who the fuck are you?” 

The man smiled widely. “Oh, you know who I am. You called for me to take your brother away, didn’t you?” An eyebrow quirked up. “What’s that about by the way? Making out with your brother and then wishing him away when he wants to talk? That’s jerky even for goblins.” 

“He is not my...wait. What?” Did he say...goblins? Wished Shiro away? He looked at the man harder, noticed a hint of a pointed ear poking out of the mess of his hair and a touch of sharpness to his teeth. “...oh fuck.” 


End file.
